


Hair like Silk and Gold

by HoneyBeeBritt



Series: Gentle, hard and loving hands [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, F/M, Forehead Kisses, Hair Braiding, Kisses, Poetic license with Vulcan rituals, Poly-V, Polyamory, Pregnancy, Sleepy Kisses, Trans Character, Trans Jim Kirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:08:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26988736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyBeeBritt/pseuds/HoneyBeeBritt
Summary: Sometimes, you just need to summon up your courage and wake those whom you love, and trust that they can help make things better again.—Jim can not sleep, even though she is so tired, and wants to be in the warmth and love of the people she loves so very much, and would love the comfort of having her hair braided before her inevitable labor.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James T. Kirk/Nyota Uhura, James T. Kirk/Spock, James T. Kirk/Spock/Nyota Uhura, Spock/Nyota Uhura
Series: Gentle, hard and loving hands [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969741
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	Hair like Silk and Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mockingatticus (ladysaraj)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladysaraj/gifts).



> Hello! It’s been a while! Welcome! I just want to start by saying for everyone to respect the tags. Jim is trans in this story and uses she/her pronouns, however did not feel the need to change her name (it’s /my/ name, it was my body that wasn’t quite right, that’s her general consensus). In a very long and special story to my heart and that of my very dear friend, that maybe I might write out one day, Jim is able to have the body she wishes through a transporter malfunction. Whatever that body is is up to you, I have my thoughts and you have yours, but nothing is written as graphic in this story, besides mentions of pregnancy. But Jim here is a trans character.
> 
> This also involves polyamory, in which all the characters here and involved in.
> 
> Please respect the tags if you wish to leave, that’s a-okay.
> 
> Thank you for reading and keeping this a safe place for exploring ideas that are dear to our hearts!

  
Jim’s toes edged the plush carpet as her heels stayed firm on the cool bathroom tiles, and she lingered in the frame of a bedroom that was so much warmer than hers was ever set. She had ordered the computer to dim the lights to barely 5%, but in her hyper aware state she could see clearly across the room to where her two friends lay fast asleep in the large Starfleet issue bed, a bed that almost matched her own.

“... Nyota…” her voice was barely a breath, and her throat tightened as she watched her grumble in her sleep before turning over, an arm thrown over her partner’s middle, but she needed them, and she tried again “... Spock, please.”

It was almost as if a switch was flicked, and Spock opened his eyes from where he lay still on his side of the bed, in more of a meditation than sleep. He sat up in a well practiced movement, wide awake when his eyes found hers in the darkness, his skin prickling with the discomfort that simply radiated from Jim and into the air, “T’hy’la, Jim, are you well?”

Nyota was more of a slow riser, dragging herself out of sleep and pressing herself up onto her arm to scrub at her eyes with the heel of her palm, “Hng? Jim? You okay?”

“I… I’m sorry. I just- I couldn’t-“ her hands wrapped protectively around her middle, as well as she could, her hands curled around the swell of her stomach. She had replicated herself all new pajamas long ago, ones with a nice waistband all wide and high, so her sleeping pants sat properly even though her belly continued to grow little by little each day. She took comfort in the way her bundle was wrapped in warmth, wasn’t exposed to the air, she felt as though she was doing something right even though she felt cold all of the time, “... I couldn’t sleep, and I thought maybe, maybe I could-“ she shivered despite herself, the warmth of the room doing nothing to settle the ice water that seemed determined to trickle through her veins, “I thought Spock might be awake.”

“Would you like to meditate, Jim? I shall of course give you guidance.” Spock’s voice was low and vibrated with warmth in the darkness, and Jim could see as Nyota reached over to turn on the bedside lamp, an imitation gas lamp with a little dimmer that flooded the room with gentle soft light. She watched as the muscles in Nyota’s bare back stretched and moved as she reached to the floor for her nightshirt, and Spock left the bed in nothing but low slung pajama pants of his own. His skin was pale, she knew, but he took on a golden hue in the dim light and her eyes couldn’t help but linger just a little, admiring the strength of his chest and the light dusting of hair that covered the intimate nature of the skin she could see. 

If Spock or Nyota noticed the momentary gaze that Jim gave them upon seeing them in the light, they didn’t comment on it. But really, they didn’t need to, it was no secret that their company was something Jim ached for at times, and something they never rejected, no matter the time of day.

“It’s… close, that’s what Bones says, he’s going to come early, and I feel… I feel strange, maybe he’s coming soon.” Jim still hadn’t left the door frame, and it was only through a wordless gesture, an outstretched hand, that Spock encouraged her to step out of the coolness of the bathroom into the encompassing warmth of their chamber. With a quick word, she ordered the bathroom door to close 75% of the way, so a little of the light still streamed through. “I don’t think I can meditate now, I just-“ Jim easily slipped her fingers into Spock’s hand, and he held them as gently as he could muster, giving them the smallest of squeezes, but portraying the most intimate of words, “Could you- could you braid my hair?”

Spock’s eyebrow arched, and Jim’s stomach just did somersaults, and she went to pull away before Spock held firmly onto her hand, threading their fingers together, “Of course, t’hy’la, anything. You saw examples in our melds, did you not?”

“Your Mother. She was beautiful, and the intricate ones your Father wove into her hair before you were born. It looked so… safe and secure, and she didn’t have to worry about hair all in her face and I just-“ Jim took a deep breath before squaring her shoulders, holding herself tall, one hand still safely on her belly, “yes, please braid my hair.”

“Spock is wonderful at it, you’re in for a real treat.” Nyota climbed out of bed, and Jim could see special plaits woven into her hair, while the rest was gloriously loose and natural, “Does Leonard know you’re here? Should I wake him for you?”

Jim just shook her head, and she let Spock draw her into the circle of his arms, “I didn’t want to wake him, he only got back from medbay a few hours ago, we rescued that stranded shuttle and most of the crew required surgery, I’d rather he get all the sleep he can, knowing what’s coming. And I left the door ajar, if he wakes he’ll put two and two together.”

Nyota just smiled so softly at her, and Jim knew it was in regard as she watched her with Spock, as the Vulcan led her to the corner of the room where he practiced his  _ Kohl-tor.  _ There he sat first upon his platform, but with splayed bent legs instead of having them delicately folded beneath him. He then reached over to the cushions decorating the area, and retrieved a large flat one, a rich deep blue which he placed on the floor between his thighs, and beckoned Jim forward again, silently, with a simple gesture of an outstretched hand. 

Jim stepped forward instantly, and went to sit down but hesitated, her belly twinged and she winced, suddenly so unsure of how to move her own body. She had always meditated with Spock on this makeshift platform, usually side by side, and she wanted so desperately to be able to sink into the same position as she always did, but the frustration brewed in her chest, and she clutched at her stomach, suddenly so afraid-

“Jim? Here, take my hands.” Nyota was at her side in an instant, having observed her subtle hints of unease from the bed, and she gripped Jim’s hands in both her own before gently motioning for her to face her back to the Vulcan, “Trust me?” She grinned, her eyes so kind, and she squeezed her fingers.

“Always.” Jim replied, and that was simply the truth.

It was only a moment, and she let herself be lowered back, Nyota’s hands strong in her own, and Spock’s palms supporting her hips as she came down to rest, and all of a sudden she was seated comfortably in the cradle of Spock’s thighs, the bare skin of his chest cool against her back through her thin sleeping shirt. She let herself rest into him, closing her eyes as his arms came around her shoulders in a touch that Spock  _ knew  _ that she needed. 

It made tears spring to her eyes, not threatening to fall but just simply there, making themselves known, and she felt Spock’s arms tighten around her in response. How far they had come in their relationship with each other that from a simple touch he could discern her every thought and need. She wished that she was so lucky, that she could help him in a similar way, that she would not constantly get it wrong, that in her most intimate moments she could become like a rock for him too.

“Jim, breathe slower, deeper, you are safe, no harm will come to you.”

She did as he said, took a deep breath in through her nose, and out through her mouth, trying in vain to push away the voice of her inner critic. But she felt as though she was floundering, that the noise was overwhelming, and that the seas were too rough for Spock’s touch to ground alone-

“Let’s try something else, sweetheart?” Nyota murmured, right by her ear, and this made Jim’s eyes snap open, before she gently took her cheeks in her hands, slowly, one movement at a time so that Jim could freely pull away if she liked, and the roar of blood in Jim’s ears seemed to fade the moment Nyota touched her lips to hers.

It had been so  _ long _ since Jim had the privilege of kissing Nyota, and it was barely a kiss at all, just a brush of lips lasting no longer than a moment, gentle and sweet and brief but as she pulled away with a smile, her thumb stroking over a barely there scar on Jim’s cheekbone, “Humans, Spock,” she murmured, letting herself sit on her knees in front of Jim to save her back, “never seem to be able to resist the kiss of a pretty lady.”

Nyota arched an eyebrow, looking at her expectedly for a beat, and Jim just  _ smiled _ , couldn’t help it if she tried, her face melting from wide eyed and frozen in time to a laugh and a grin, spreading over her face like the blush that tinged her cheeks, and she felt herself light up like she hadn’t done in so very long. That voice was banished, for now, and Jim closed her eyes briefly in a happy squint as Nyota kissed her forehead as she stood, “Let me know if you need help getting up, I’m gonna doze for a while.”

And that is where Jim found herself, the ice in her veins slowly fading to nothing, replaced with the warmth stemming from Spock’s fingers as he gently combed out her hair, and the lingering taste of Nyota on her lips and the light that the brief touch had brought to her soul. 

“You have beautiful hair, Jim. I am pleased that you chose to grow it out after your transition.” Spock must have had a comb hidden beneath one of the cushions, because he never moved from his spot while she was with him, and he gently brushed all the tangles out of her hair from where it had dried in the evening. She went from feeling like a fluffy matted tribble, to like her hair turned to spun gold in his hands, and she wondered for a moment if he had other hidden talents too. 

“You’re just sayin’ that because I washed it.” Jim’s eyelids felt heavy, delightfully so, as she reveled in the feeling of Spock’s fingers strong and sure working his magic against her scalp. “Not much of a choice, the transporter malfunction changed a lot of things, for the better mind you, but the second time around I was lucky not to have my ribs appear backwards.”

“That would have been… unfortunate.” Spock’s fingers stilled for a moment, before he continued his ministrations, his thighs momentarily pressing against her sides in a strong sense of a hug, “I am confident that anything that had to be fixed would have been corrected by Doctor McCoy and his astute medical knowledge.”

“Mm, once the initial relief had worn off, Bones had me on a bio bed for three days straight. Checked every inch of me, inside and out, and then, well,  _ double checked  _ every inch of me later.” Jim turned her head to look over her shoulder, and waggled her eyebrows in suggestion before Spock simply sighed and gently turned her head back to face forward, but Jim was  _ proud _ of the barely there smile turning up the corners of his lips, “Everything safe, all alright inside, it actually undid some of the damage to my insides from when…” Jim didn’t have to say, Spock knew, he knew too well the damage done by that damned warp core, and his hands stopped again, “N-not enough to get me off the tablets I need to take, but a little.”

“I am simply relieved that you are well. And that you are truly happy. Your happiness and safety, as our Captain, our friend, our lover, is paramount.”

From there, they settled into a comfortable silence, only broken by Spock’s soft voice asking at regular intervals whether he was hurting Jim by pulling at her hair. He absolutely wasn’t, she assured him, and it was the truth. Jim did not know what the final result was going to look like, but with the way the Vulcan’s fingers worked expertly with her, and the beautiful headband of braids he had made with Nyota’s hair, she did not worry one bit. She could feel her hair being gently parted, woven, smoothed into place, tugging around the crown of her head, and she found herself moving with him as he worked. It was a gentle rocking, barely a full motion, and she felt her son inside her grow more and more calm, becoming the most settled he had been in the last few days, and it took a moment for Jim to realize that Spock had started to talk once more.

“Vulcans have access to memories far beyond that of humans, once we learn how to see them. I can remember the sight of my Mother when I first arrived, exhausted, but utterly beautiful, I have done your hair just like hers.” 

“I hope… I hope I can be half the Mom that she was.” Jim whispered, almost as if she was ashamed of the thought, as Spock’s fingers finished their work, and the brush of them against the base of her neck made her shiver.

“You will not be the same Mother that she was. You will be different, and that is a good thing indeed. You will be… well, Jim,  _ you _ . And your child will be all the more well off for it.”

“I hope I’m enough.” Jim closed her eyes as Spock angled her head back with whispers of fingertips caressing along past her temples as he inspected his work. His caress was intimate, encompassing, and as though his fingers were physically drawing the tension from her body, and he spread his palms over her collarbone, gently pulling her in to settle more comfortably against his chest. She couldn’t help it, she curled into the feel of him and turned her face into his neck to lose herself in the scent of him, spiced tea and incense, the pinpricks of sweat that peaked on his brow and the back of his neck from the heat of her, and the lingering touch of Nyota’s perfume from their sheets. She took a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth, and let herself sink deeper into the haven Spock had created just for her. 

“You are  _ enough _ , T’hy’la. You will  _ always _ be so. And when you feel as though you are not, you shall have those who love you so deeply to remind you of your brilliance.” He pressed his forehead to the crown of her golden hair, before gently moving her to lean her forward, just a little. He had woven her hair in a double braid, from the front to the back moving around her head like a halo, pulling in strands so that no hair would worry her face during her delivery. Instead of trailing down her back or turning into buns, he had woven them in two layers so that she could let her head rest back against a bio bed without any discomfort; and with every strand of hair he had gathered, he had meditated on helping her find the strength for the journey on which she was about to embark. 

The nape of her neck was bare, and emotions bubbled up inside of him that he did not know how to name; something akin to protectiveness, possessiveness, love, happiness, loss, and it  _ ached _ , the human parts of him begging for intimacy, and he gave  _ into _ it, holding her in his arms in the middle of the night when she had come to him looking for comfort. He would give her all the comfort and strength he knew how to give. He leant forward to her, gently, and she covered her hands with his when he pressed his lips to her warm bare skin.

_ “You are a beautiful Mother, my T’hy’la.”  _

Her fingers wrapped around his, and held on, and even though she only recognized his name for her she was sure she understood the breath of Vulcan words that escaped his lips in the quiet of the room.

In the end, he had left Nyota to rest, hadn’t needed much help at all to encourage Jim back to her bed. He had guided her through the darkness of the bathroom, and into the quarters she shared with Leonard, and back to their warm bed. Leonard was still asleep, and Spock could see the circles underneath his eyes from the long surgeries he had spent working in. Although he had the help of a more than competent team of Starfleet medical staff, Spock knew that Leonard took on the life of every individual aboard their ship, a quality that he and Jim shared.

They were very well matched indeed.

Spock helped her into bed, and tucked the covers up and around her, and watched as she just gravitated towards Leonard in the bed. Her fingers buried in his sleeping shirt and his hand came to rest upon her head, stirring as he felt braided silk instead of soft waves, “Jim? Your hair, it feels strange.”

“Spock braided it, I asked him to, couldn’t sleep, I think it’s gettin’ bout ready for showtime.”

Leonard opened his eyes just a peak, and saw Spock’s familiar figure in the low light flowing from the quarters across the way. He couldn’t help it, let out a little grumble as he woke up more, dragging himself out of sleep, before glancing from Jim’s pretty head to Spock crouching on the floor, “Looks mighty fine, well done, Spock. Are you alright, Jim? Contractions?”

“Not bad, just there, light, wanna sleep, Bones, I’m so tired.”

“Doctor, my touch telepathy did not detect any more discomfort than what Jim is relaying, so I would like to offer my services to you both so that you can rest while you are free to, without interruption. I shall rearrange your shifts, and ask for a maternity suite to be prepared for later.” It took a moment for Leonard to comprehend those words, and for Jim wiggling further into his embrace to react to them, but he nodded, the sweet pull of sleep for them both more than a successful temptation to leave things in his hands.

“... Thank you, Mr. Spock, please.”

Leonard nuzzled a kiss into her hair, her temple, her forehead as they settled down for more sleep, and Spock touched gently at both their meld points, more a caress than a full joining of minds, a kiss of a meld encouraging them both into a deep joined slumber. And before Leonard nodded off, he grasped Spock’s wrist in a sleep loose grasp, and opened up all his emotions and thoughts to the Vulcan’s senses, holding his gaze even though his eyes were creeping closed.

“All is well, Leonard. You are welcome.”


End file.
